


Sing a Song for Babylon

by bimmyshrug



Series: Catholic AU [2]
Category: IT (1990), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, BDSM, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Bottom Eddie Kaspbrak, Catholic Guilt, Catholicism, Christianity, Church Sex, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Dominant Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Exhibitionism, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, I Want That Twink Obliterated, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Praise Kink, Religious Guilt, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Spit As Lube, Top Richie Tozier, We're all going to HELL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:55:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22966522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bimmyshrug/pseuds/bimmyshrug
Summary: He’s prepared this altar as an altar boy; he’s lit the candles and set the cloth and carried the burse. He’s filled the aspersory and knelt before the Father at the call of the Consecration chimes to receive the sacrament. He’s assisted in preparing the Eucharist on this very same altar that’s now so cold against his bare skin.-And honestly, he's surprised Richie hasn't picked up on it yet, like this is something so depraved and wrong that even Richie wouldn't think to do it. The heat in Eddie's belly grows hotter and he presses his lips to Richie’s neck, mumbling the only thing he thinks might get his message across while allowing him to maintain some semblance of his dignity."Please, Daddy?"
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Catholic AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1650472
Comments: 57
Kudos: 381





	Sing a Song for Babylon

**Author's Note:**

> [ Come see me on Tumblr! ](https://bimmyshrug.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [An Unholy Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0YYBs1gHCFGJSkUaDEFl6j?si=imJWpK_4RM-IG5UMBdXUFg)
> 
> Dude I wasn't planning on this being 3 times longer than part one but honestly wtf do y'all expect from me at this point i can't shut my fucking mouth
> 
> I literally am going to hell like y'all asked me to do this and I hope you're fucking happy because I am going to hell fr
> 
> No but writing this was really fun and it ended up being angstier than anticipated on accident. I'm gonna include some TW to be safe because it gets sort of heavy so:
> 
> ////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////  
> TW CONTAIN SPOILERS: internalized homophobia, homophobic language, child abuse, religious abuse, racism, antisemitism, coarse language, sex in a fucking church, road head, degradation, exhibitionism, unsafe sex bc you should not use spit as lubricant gonorrhea is a serious issue so please dont do it  
> //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Eddie supposes it’s his own fault for assuming all of his problems would magically be solved by moving out of Derry.

To be fair, a lot of them were, the most obvious being his mother. Being away from her has been an absolute dream. And being away from her also means being away from most of what he’s now realized caused so much of his anxiety and self-doubt his entire life. He’s experiencing a level of relief that he didn’t realize he was even capable of, and he knows that it shows. Richie told him after just a month of being in New York that he could see Eddie blossoming, and while it embarrassed him at the time, now he can’t help feeling a little proud of himself, too. It helps that Richie reminds him all the time of how much he’s grown, even if hearing it makes him feel flustered and overwhelmed sometimes. He thinks he’s getting better about it, though. Now, when Richie tells him how much he admires him, and how strong and beautiful he is, he can accept those compliments with a degree of sincerity he never thought possible. Now when Richie tells him how much he loves him, he doesn’t have a crippling moment of panic before he can say the same in return. And that’s truthfully enough to be thankful for.

On the other hand, being outside of Derry has made him realize how much he isn’t capable of doing on his own, and that’s been a difficult thing for him to handle. He hadn’t realized how much control his mother had over his entire life, not until he had to start doing everything for himself. Even simple things like making phone calls to set up doctor appointments and doing his own laundry feel like mountains that he can’t climb sometimes, and he feels himself wishing that he hadn’t moved away in his moments of weakness. He feels disgusted with himself over it, but once again, Richie always knows what to say to reassure him.

_Eds, you don’t have to do this all on your own; you can ask for help. That doesn’t make you weak, babe._

_We’re a team, sweetheart. Let me help you when you need it. You don’t have to carry the world on your shoulders._

It makes him feel guilty sometimes. Richie is understanding to a fault, almost. And that’s why it’s especially infuriating that his plan to come out and live his life as a gay man didn’t work out the way he wanted it to once they got to New York.

He thought he was so ready. New York is the place to be as a gay man right now, and Eddie was so sure he’d be able to shed Derry like an old layer of skin and walk into his new life ready to be this person that he doesn’t know how to be. He felt so determined in the weeks leading up to move-in day at their dorm; fantasized about coming out to people and how it would roll so easily off of his tongue in a place like New York, where men like them were safer than they are in most other places. It was all he could talk about on the trip to NYU, with their entire lives strapped into the back of Richie’s truck.

“I just don’t want to hide anymore. I want to be honest with myself for once in my fucking life,” he had repeated for what felt like the hundredth time since they’d started their journey.

“I want that for you too, baby, but you’re putting a lot of pressure on yourself. You don’t have to ride through Times Square on a pride float or anything, Eds,” Richie had told him, and at first, Eddie wanted to get defensive. He wanted to say _what, you don’t think I can?_ But all of his anger leaked out of him when Richie slid his hand across the space between them to wrap Eddie’s fingers between his own.

And he should have known it wouldn’t be that easy, but he really, really hoped it would be. How do you even go about coming out, and being out? It’s not like you can look at most people and know they’re queer, and honestly, Eddie feels like it might be easier if you could. So even after making his decision that he wasn’t going to lie anymore, he found himself having no fucking idea where to start.

Richie suggested starting with their friends. They’d had a conversation about it and decided to come out to them all at the same time, so that they could hit them with the one-two of “We’re queer and also in a relationship” at the same time as well. Eddie had swallowed down the little stone of panic in his throat and agreed. They would sit the five of them down together, have a few drinks, and he would just say “Oh, by the way, I’m gay.” Just like that.

Richie came out to his parents and his little sister in the weeks before they left for school, and that had been harder for Eddie than he had anticipated. He felt so horrible for the way he reacted, like he was making it about himself. He was trying so hard not to, but as soon as Richie told him he was planning to come out to them at dinner one night, Eddie spent the rest of the day in a panic.

“What if they tell my mom?”

“Eddie, baby, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but my mother hates your mother. Both of my parents hate your mother. They wouldn’t tell her, trust me.”

“But Piper is still in high school, what if she-”

“I accidentally told Piper I was in love with you once when I was 14; I’m pretty sure if she was going to tell somebody, she would have by now.”

He felt even worse when Richie climbed in through his window that night with a giant smile stretched across his face as he lied down next to him, and wrapped Eddie up in a hug so tight it hurt. Because everything had gone well, just like Richie knew it would. Because his family is kind and understanding, and Eddie had nothing to be afraid of.

“I didn’t even get the chance to tell them we’re dating. As soon as I said I’m bisexual, Piper immediately said ‘So does this mean you and Eddie are together?’ and my parents just immediately agreed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Honestly, it was kind of relieving.”

And, well, it was relieving for Eddie too. But terrifying and nerve-wracking when he walked into Richie’s house a few days later for dinner, only to have Maggie wrap him up into a hug so tight that it stole his breath away. She didn’t say anything, but the gentle, loving look in her eyes once she pulled away had Eddie on the verge of tears already.

He didn’t start crying until Went gave him a much gentler hug, swaying him gently from side-to-side before he said “We love you, Eddie. You know that, you’re like a son to us.”

That’s what finally made him break, and he collapsed against Went’s chest, failing to hold in his choked sobs as he shook in his arms. And Went just hugged him tighter, rubbing a comforting hand down Eddie’s back while he cried, and Eddie had never felt more vulnerable and loved more deeply in a way that he can’t explain than he did in that moment.

It was short lived, though, because Piper chimed in with “Dad, that’s gross; they’re dating now,” which effectively broke the tension, earning a small giggle from Eddie as he pulled away from Went after one last pat on the back. Richie wrapped him up in a hug right afterwards and kissed the top of his head, and Eddie felt sort of overdramatic about the whole thing, but the way Richie was looking at him with such earnest eyes said that Richie understood. He always understood.

“Which reminds me, Richie, you’ve got to stay in the guest room tonight if Eddie is sleeping over.”

“Mom, we’re gonna fucking live together in, like, a month! We’ve been friends since we were six!”

“Come on, I’ve got to have this experience as a mother at least once before you leave. It’s like a rite of passage.”

“For you, maybe.”

“Yes, let me have this.”

And that night, as he was lying in Richie’s bed, breathing in his scent against his pillows, he’d never felt more sure of anything in his life. Because he realized in that moment that he and Richie are meant for each other in a way that can’t be wrong. It can’t, because God wouldn’t be that cruel to him. God wouldn’t give him someone like this if he was supposed to give it up.

“Eds, I can hear you thinking from here, go to sleep,” Richie’s voice crackled softly through the walkie-talkie that he had insisted Eddie keep with him after Maggie made good on her threat to make them sleep in separate rooms. Eddie thought it was silly while Richie was digging them out of his old toy chest and changing the batteries, but once Richie gave him a goodnight kiss and went to the guest room, Eddie felt lonely and was grateful to have Richie’s voice crackling in his ear as they both tried to drift off to sleep.

“I can’t sleep.”

“Me either. It’s surprisingly much harder sleeping without you when you’re down the hall rather than down the street. God, I can’t fucking wait to live with you. It’s, like, crazy that this is all happening. Thirteen year old me’s head would fucking explode if I could go back in time and tell him that all this would happen.”

Eddie smiled like an idiot into Richie’s pillows, letting out a few giggles before he pressed the button to respond.

“I really love you.”

“I’ll love you until the day I die.”

“Even if we can never get married?”

“We will. Whether it’s next year or 20 years from now. It’ll happen, baby, I promise.”

They didn’t end up coming out to their friends until the weekend that they moved into their dorm. Bev and Ben started classes a few days later than the rest of them, so they decided to tag along and send off the other 5 losers before making their way to Syracuse. They all decided to order pizza and cram themselves into Richie and Eddie’s dorm room, and once they’d all had a few slices and a few beers each, Eddie decided to capitalize on the manic confidence he felt the entire trip down to school.

There was a comfortable lull in conversation, and Eddie decided it was now or never. He had his cross between his teeth and was mouthing at it as he looked out at all of his friends sitting around him, and Richie threw a concerned glance in his direction that had Eddie losing his nerve.

And, well, he really didn’t want to lose his nerve, so he ripped the cross out of his mouth so quickly that the chain snapped in his hand, and he looked down at it in his palm for a terrifying moment before snapping his head back up and blurting “I’m gay,” so loudly that all six heads whipped over to him while a silence fell over the room.

Well, five. Richie was already looking at him, and at his words, his eyes went wide in shock. And Eddie didn’t realize that he was crying until Richie shot across the room, barely missing pizza boxes and cups of beer before he was wrapping Eddie up into his arms on his bed, allowing Eddie to sob into his chest.

And somehow, the rest of them managed to cram themselves onto his bed as well, hugging him so tight that it was almost suffocating. And he felt pathetic because he couldn’t stop crying, and he just wanted this to be fucking easy, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t easy at all.

After the initial shock of what he’d done wore off, he tried to make himself as small as possible, shrinking himself into Richie’s arms and hoping that he could disappear. And Richie must have noticed, because he pulled away before speaking, and Eddie already started to relax at the sound of his voice.

“Well, not to steal Eds’ thunder or anything, but I’m bisexual.”

“So am I,” Bev said softly, and Eddie pulled his head up from Richie’s chest to look at her in shock.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Probably would have figured it out sooner if I didn’t spend my peak pubescent years in the middle of a sausage fest.”

“Pretty sure that’s why I’m gay,” Eddie joked softly, and they all laughed, and maybe things would be okay.

They all seemed to know that Richie and Eddie were together without them having to explicitly say so, too. Eddie thought maybe that was just hand-in-hand with them coming out. At first he wanted to get defensive about it, but he realized that he’s always known, on some level, that Richie is the only one for him. He can’t blame other people for picking up on it, too.

And the next morning, after they all said their goodbyes to Bev and Ben and sent them off, and Mike, Stan and Bill headed back to their respective dorm rooms, Richie climbed into Eddie’s bed and pressed him back into his pillows. He whispered to Eddie in between kisses how impressed he was that Eddie did something so brave, and that he did such a good job, and _Eddie, baby, Daddy’s so proud of you._

And he’s not even sure how Richie knew he needed it, but he wasn’t surprised. Richie always knows. Eddie thinks it might be something in his eyes, maybe an expression that he makes or his mannerisms that blink like flashing signs in Richie’s mind telling him _Please make me feel small. Take me away. Make me feel like yours._

And that’s exactly what Richie did, pressing Eddie’s body down into the mattress with his own after removing their shirts to suck bruises into Eddie’s skin at his collarbones. He paused before moving up to his neck to leave marks there as well, because _They know now; I don’t have to hide that you’re mine anymore, kitten._

And Eddie wanted to be mad about it, but he couldn’t be, because Richie was right. They didn’t have to hide it from their friends, at least. So instead of lecturing Richie or giving him shit, he tilted his head back farther and bared more of his skin for Richie to press his teeth into as Eddie pulled the rest of his clothes off, all the while babbling underneath him please _Please, please, I just want to be yours Daddy, please._

He was embarrassed about the hickeys after the fog of arousal was lifted from his brain, but he still wore them around his neck as a reminder of what he’d accomplished. What he is proud to have accomplished.

And after that, he started panicking less and less when Richie reached for his hand as they walked down the street, or slung an arm around his waist while they were on the train. He stopped frantically searching for watching eyes before allowing Richie to fold their fingers together, and pressed back into his embraces without first worrying that someone on that train was going to scream _faggots!_ at them.

He even referred to Richie as his boyfriend to his RA once by accident, and she promptly offered to pretend that she doesn’t know they’re dating, since couples aren’t allowed to room together on campus. Eddie blushed furiously the whole time he thanked her and thanked her, and she assured him she was happy to keep their secret.

And maybe things really, really would be okay.

Richie got him a replacement for his necklace chain; a soft, black leather cord that he said looks really nice with Eddie’s complexion. He also made good on his promise to try and help Eddie find a church, which was harder than he thought it would be. Finding a church that allows queers is hard enough, let alone a Catholic church, and Eddie started to question if he even wanted to go anymore after exhausting all of the options he could find in the phone book.

He believes in God, that he knows. But the appeal of finding a new church started wearing off more and more as he kept looking for one, because each failed attempt felt like another giant reminder that he isn’t allowed to be gay and Christian. Not that he didn’t know that, of course. But he really hoped at the very least he’d be able to find a church that didn’t have such extreme views.

Richie suggested switching to a Presbyterian or Protestant church instead to try to increase their chances of finding a church that Eddie can attend, but Eddie doesn’t want to switch denominations. He’s been a Catholic his entire life, he doesn’t want to switch now. That might be a silly stance to take, but it’s important to him. Richie doesn’t seem to fully grasp why, but he accepts it none-the-less.

Eddie of course has been telling his mother that he’s been attending church since starting school. He calls her every Sunday “after mass” to discuss the differences in their sermons for that day. Eddie is pretty fucking good at faking it, he must admit.

He gets so good at faking it, in fact, that he starts to see little point in trying to find a church if he is able to essentially have church Cliff Notes with his mom every Sunday instead. That’s almost just as good, isn’t it?

He lets this go on so long that before he knows it, it’s winter break, and he hasn’t been to mass once since leaving home. And now that Christmas is coming up, he feels particularly guilty. He knows his mom will be able to tell that he hasn’t been attending mass like he should. He’s even started slacking on his daily prayers recently, which starts to really worry him. He can feel himself losing his faith and he wants so desperately to keep it close to him, but it feels like it’s impossible to do that while also working towards being out of the closet.

He can’t stop thinking about it while they’re in Richie’s truck once again, this time heading back up to Derry, where it’s currently snowing so heavily that there may be power outages. He really hopes his mother’s house doesn’t lose power. The last thing he needs is to be trapped in a house with her with nothing to entertain themselves but each other.

Then she’ll really grill him about his new church. He’s created a few fake people in his head to make it seem believable. His priest at Saint Mary of Sorrows is named Father John Roost, and he’s been with the church for fifteen years. Eddie shares a pew with a lovely middle-aged couple who have a daughter his own age named Adele, for intrigue. He’s got the details down in case she asks, but he’s afraid she’ll ask something obscure, and that he’ll panic and freeze up and give himself away. _Are the pews maple or oak? Stone siding or brick? RSV-CE or NRSV-CE?_

He doesn’t realize how noticeably anxious he is until Richie reaches across the bench seat to grip him around the thigh, ripping him out of his thoughts with a firm squeeze.

“If you bite on that thing any harder, you’re gonna break your teeth,” he jokes, and Eddie realizes that he has been _gnawing_ on his cross this whole time, and gently pulls it out from between his lips. “And I thought I had an oral fixation, fuck.”

“I’m just so nervous about seeing my mom. She’s gonna know I haven’t been going to church. I’m afraid she’s gonna look at me and somehow know I’m gay.”

“I mean… to be honest with you, Eds, I’m sure she has her suspicions. She’s been calling me a dirty faggot behind my back for the entire time you’ve known me, so at the very least, she knows I have a massive, throbbing heart-boner for you.”

Eddie pauses, biting the inside of his lip in an attempt to resist the urge to bring his cross back between his lips. “Are you sure you’re okay with going back into the closet for me while we’re home?”

“I would cram myself into a lunchbox if you asked me to.”

“I’m serious, Richie.”

“Yes, baby, I’m sure. It’s not like Derry is the safest place to be a queer man, and I also don’t think it’s a good idea to come out to your mom yet. I meant it when I said I’m okay with going at your pace with this. _You_ know how gay I am for you and that’s all that really matters to me,” Richie tells him softly, and _God,_ why is Richie so fucking perfect. Why did he spend years of his life running away from this.

Oh, that’s right, religious trauma.

_Trauma._ That’s an ugly word that feels like it comes from the depths of him without his permission, but that’s how it feels. He thinks that’s probably an accurate way of describing it, truthfully.

“I just don’t want you to feel like you have to hide for me.”

“I don’t. I’m hiding for you because it’s a necessity, and it’s a sacrifice that I am very willing to make if it keeps you safe, my love.”

And that’s the funny part. His mother has been telling him his entire life that everything she’s ever done was to keep him safe, but the only people he’s ever truly felt safe with are his friends. The only person he trusts with his entire being to act in the best interests of his safety, always, is Richie.

“Do you know how much I love you?”

“I’m gonna say a solid tenth of how much I love you.”

“Guess again.”

“Okay, two-tenths. Final offer.”

Eddie lets out a giggling snort at that and Richie takes his eyes off of the road for too long to give Eddie that dopey, lovey smile that he does sometimes, and Eddie just really wishes they weren’t in the car so that he could climb into Richie’s lap and hold him so tightly around the middle that he can feel their hearts beating against one another.

“Honestly, the part I’m looking forward to the least about being home is not getting to sleep in the same bed as you and touch your naughty bits at night,” Richie sighs dramatically, shifting his hand further up Eddie’s thigh and in between his legs, smirking at the small gasp that Eddie lets out at the movement.

“You can come sneak in through my window like you used to,” Eddie suggests, and Richie lets out a pained groan.

“Do you know how much that sucks after months of not having to worry about being walked in on, or how loud you are? It feels like a cruel punishment for visiting my family for the holidays.”

“We could probably stand to be a bit quieter in our dorm, too,” Eddie offers softly, already blushing down to his chest.

“Fuck that. I want everyone to hear you. I want everyone to hear how you beg for my cock like a desperate little whore, and how you sound like a drunk slut when I’m so deep inside of you that it makes you fucking stupid.”

Richie starts off sounding like he might just be poking fun, but his words still spark an almost uncomfortable heat under Eddie’s skin, and then he slides his hand up even higher until he’s nearly rubbing against the crotch of Eddie’s pants, and wow, why are they still fucking three hours away from their destination.

“Richie, you’re driving,” Eddie tries to scold in a stern voice, but it comes out shaky, and Richie gives him a side glance before smirking and rubbing his thumb into the meat of Eddie’s thigh.

“I can multitask.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Wanna bet?” Richie asks in a chuckle, already popping the button open on Eddie’s pants, and really, he isn’t sure when his willpower and resolve started turning to mush at the touch of Richie’s fingers. Probably the first time Richie reached into his pants after Eddie messily banged their teeth together in this very same truck, whispering into his ear _God, Eddie, all I’ve ever wanted is to touch you like this._

“What if someone sees?”

“Lucky them.”

Who is he kidding? It was long before that.

So really, he can’t be blamed for giving in so easily, and allowing Richie to slide his hand into the front of his pants. Can’t be blamed for shifting his hips up to pull his pants and briefs down to his knees when Richie can’t quite fit his (fucking huge) hand inside of the tight jeans Eddie is wearing, either.

And truthfully, he’s already calming down about his anxiety, and his mother, and his inability to find a fucking church that doesn’t still want to burn faggots at the stake once Richie is stroking over his cock. And he’s almost tempted to say that he couldn’t give a shit less about all of that once Richie pulls his fingers away and brings them back wet with his spit to push them between Eddie’s legs.

And he’s almost certain that a man driving in a car with his wife sees him jerking his cock while Richie fingers him when he passes them on the right. And for the brief moment that Eddie locks eyes with this man he doesn’t know, he feels something that is sort of like panic but much more like excitement. The word _exhilarating_ flashes through his brain as the man quickly looks away and accelerates to what must be a criminal speed, and Eddie comes all over his bare thighs and his hand.

“You’re a little freak,” Richie praises as Eddie wipes himself down with paper napkins from McDonald’s and pulls his pants back up, all while he contemplates what the fuck that means, and if he even wants to know. He doesn’t think he does. He definitely doesn’t want to keep thinking about it, at least.

“Shut up.”

“I shouldn’t have done that honestly. Now I’m just gonna have a rigid erection for the next three hours,” Richie sighs before reaching down to adjust his cock in his pants, and well, Eddie can’t just leave his boyfriend in that sort of condition, can he?

He unbuckles his seatbelt before sliding across the bench seat to unbutton Richie’s pants and pull his cock out, and Richie looks down at him in shock.

“For real?”

“Shut up, Rich.”

“This is… this is literally a dream come true. I had a dream about this, like, two weeks ago. Do I have clairvoyance or did you actually walk out of one of my wet dreams?”

“Don’t make me change my mind before I even start!”

“What the fuck has gotten into you? I mean, even _I_ know this is kind of a bad idea.”

“Just keep your fucking eyes on the road,” Eddie orders before ducking his head down, and Richie promptly does not keep his eyes on the road and stares down into his lap, prompting Eddie to angrily snap his fingers at him before moving his mouth further down onto Richie’s cock.

“Yeah, sure that’s easy to say when you’re not- not the one driving while your crazy hot boyfriend goes down on you,” Richie says between shaky breaths, but he keeps his eyes up for long enough that Eddie is satisfied and goes back to focusing on swallowing down as much of Richie’s cock as he can.

And really, he knows he shouldn’t be doing this, but he fucking wants to, and he wants to do what the fuck he wants to do for once in his fucking life. So he trusts Richie not to kill them both and closes his eyes, moaning at the feeling of Richie’s cock hitting the back of his throat before he takes him deeper.

And he’s nearly forgotten that they’re in a moving car by the time Richie has one hand gripping the hair on the back of his head almost painfully, using his leg that isn’t controlling the speed of the car as leverage to thrust up into Eddie’s mouth.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie, you’re such a fucking slut. Couldn’t wait a few more hours to have my cock down your throat? Had to fucking distract me from driving because you’re an impatient little whore?”

Eddie just remains slack in his grip, letting out a hum that can’t be deciphered as affirmative or negative as it breaks around Richie’s cock between his lips.

“Or is it that you want someone to see? You want someone to look over and see you with your head in my lap, letting me use your mouth like a fucking pocket pussy, don’t you?”

Eddie is mortified by the embarrassingly loud moan that rumbles in the back of his throat, and he’s pretty sure that’s what makes Richie come, pressing Eddie’s head so firmly into his lap that his zipper scrapes against Eddie’s cheek as they swerve into the other lane.

Luckily they don’t die, and Eddie swallows down what Richie gave him as Richie straightens the truck and reduces his speed, because he somehow made it up to 25 over.

“That was a fucking stupid idea,” Richie repeats between panting breaths, and Eddie does his pants back up before lying across the bench seat and resting his head in Richie’s lap.

“Yeah, but you did a good job not getting us killed. Better than I thought you would, in fact.”

“I’ve never been forced to multitask in a more confusing and difficult way, but let me tell you, that’s going in the spank bank.”

“Glad to be of service.”

Richie lets Eddie lie his lap as he brushes his long fingers through Eddie’s hair (which is getting too long, and he’ll definitely get an earful about that from his mother). Eddie is nearly asleep when Richie nudges him, encouraging him to sit up in his seat.

“You gotta sit up, baby.”

“Why? Can’t I just nap the rest of the way? I’m so sick of being in the fucking car.”

“You have to put your seatbelt on.”

Eddie snorts. “Since when have you given a shit about seatbelts?”

“Since I started towing precious cargo; now put on your fucking seatbelt.”

Eddie can’t help smiling at that as he sits up, scooting into the seat directly next to Richie instead of the passenger side so that he can rest his head on Richie’s shoulder, where he promptly naps for the rest of the ride to Derry.

And truthfully, seeing his mother again goes better than he expects. The first thing she comments on is his hair, and she’s already on the phone getting him an appointment with his old barber before he’s even finished carrying his things up to his room. Once he makes it back downstairs, it’s his weight. _Have you still been running, Eddie? Are they feeding you good food in the dining halls?_

And then it’s Richie.

“How has living with your little _friend_ been treating you? He hasn’t been keeping you from your studies, has he, Eddie-bear? He isn’t bringing loose girls around your dorm room, is he?”

Eddie bites back something that wants to come out of his mouth, though he can’t tell if it was going to be a scoff or a laugh. “No, ma. Richie has been really focused on school. We both have.”

“I don’t know why you chose to room with that Tozier boy when you just as easily could have roomed with Bill,” she repeats for the zillionth time, this time with the added twist of Eddie having to look at the disgust on her face when she says _Tozier,_ rather than imagining it as she spits it over the phone.

“Just call him Richie, ma; I’ve known him since I was six years old. And I told you, Bill wanted to do the roommate lottery thing with the other guys in his major. His roommate is actually a really nice guy named-”

“I’m just saying, Eddie-bear, you had other options.”

“Well Mike and Stan wanted to room together and-”

“I obviously didn’t mean _them,”_ she bites, and Eddie is honestly sort of proud that she went tame this time, instead of going full-on like she did when she asked if he could sleep over Stan’s house one time as a kid. _You’re not sleeping at that Jew’s house, Edward._

Or that time he fell off of his bike and rolled his ankle, and Mike was kind enough to bring him back home. _What have I told you about hanging around that negro, Eddie?_

But that was nothing compared to what she said all the time about Richie growing up, featuring what seemed to be her favorite word for any man who didn’t look and act like Frame Johnson.

_Is that boy a faggot, Eddie?_

_That Tozier boy is_ dirty _, Eddie._

_I’ll never understand how his mother lets him walk around dressed like a little queer._

_Has that Tozier boy put his hands on you, Eddie? You can tell me if he’s tried to touch you somewhere he shouldn’t._

“I like living with Richie.”

“But Eddie-bear-”

“I don’t want to live with anyone else,” Eddie says firmly, and maybe it’s his tone that makes her drop the subject, or maybe it’s the fact that she can see in his eyes that he isn’t going to back down, which she’s proven she is unable to handle in the past. He really can’t be sure.

He ends up agreeing to go and get a haircut simply so that he doesn’t have to listen to her bitch for the entire two weeks he’ll be home. Well, at least not about that. He’s sure she’ll find other things to bitch about.

He already feels pretty done with being home by that night, and as he’s sitting in his bed and considering if he wants to go to sleep or wait until his mom falls asleep so he can call Richie, he’s almost tempted to ask if he can just stay with the Toziers instead.

No way in hell, but it’s a nice thought. And not because Went and Maggie would turn him away; they certainly wouldn’t. But his mother would never forgive him, and he’s already got a few unforgiveable sins up his sleeve that he’s sure are going to irreparably damage their relationship. He doesn’t want to tack on another one by making it obvious that he’s uncomfortable around her.

Especially since she asked him if he’d help set up for a Christmas food drive at his old church in a few days, and that might be his only chance to redeem himself. Not that he thinks she’s suspicious. Not yet, at least.

He’s just decided to risk sneaking downstairs for the cordless phone when there’s a frantic tapping at his window, and he nearly leaps out of his skin before running over to open it and allow Richie to spill into his bedroom.

“Jesus Christ, it’s fucking freezing outside. Why didn’t you unlock your window?!”

“I didn’t expect you to come over!”

“Of course I came over, I haven’t seen you in, like, eight fucking hours!”

Eddie tugs Richie over to his bed so that they can climb underneath his covers, and he wraps himself around Richie’s shivering body as best he can to try and warm him up faster.

“The haircut looks good, but I’m gonna be honest, I’m a little sad. Your hair had _just_ started doing this cute little wavy-curly thing that I was secretly obsessed with,” Richie tells him while petting a hand through Eddie’s quiff, and Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, I didn’t want to, but she made a big deal about it, like always. And I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t let me step foot in Saint John’s before I got a haircut anyway, so.”

“Are you going to church with her this weekend?”

“Yes, but she also asked if I’d help set up for the food drive this weekend on Friday, and I agreed because I like torturing myself.”

“It won’t be so bad, Eds. I’m sure everyone will be happy to see you.”

“And I sure won’t be happy to see them,” Eddie grumbles, and Richie gives him a concerned frown.

“What’s going on, baby? Talk to me.”

“I just... I feel so fucking trapped. I feel like there isn’t a right answer to any of this that allows me to keep my faith and also just… just _exist,_ and that’s- it’s so- it’s not fucking fair, Richie. It’s not fucking fair, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. And now I have to go to my old fucking church on Friday and play pretend, and act like I’m happy to see Myra, and tell everyone how great and perfect and wonderful everything is when it’s not, because I am constantly terrified that God hates me and I’m half-convinced I’ll burn alive when I try to walk through the fucking door.”

Eddie is startled by how quickly Richie shifts to face him, firmly grabbing his chin in his hands to make Eddie look into his earnest blue eyes.

“Eddie, you’re allowed to be whatever the fuck you want. You’re not a bad Christian for being gay, and you’re not a bad gay for being Christian. If you want to suck dick and go to church the next day, that’s your business.”

“I wish this was easier,” Eddie sniffles, and the realization that he’s crying just frustrates him more. “I wish I could just walk into church on Friday and be like ‘Yes, I’m living with my boyfriend, and everything is going amazing and I’ve never been happier because I realized that I’m gay, finally, no thanks to any of you.’”

“Baby, I have no doubt that you could do that if you wanted to. This isn’t a matter of fear. Or, well, I guess it is; but it’s not a matter of _weakness._ You’re not weak for being afraid of coming out to a bunch of people who have told you your whole life that gay men are just as bad as people who fuck animals.”

“I’m just- I’m afraid to even be _around_ them. I’m afraid to spend a whole _day_ with them.”

Richie pauses, biting on the inside of his lip. “Do you want me to come with?”

Eddie lets out a soft snort, and Richie pulls a mock-pout onto his face. “What? I’m not allowed in a church?”

“I just never thought I’d see the day you’d willingly set foot in one.”

“Not true, that’s always been the plan. Though I was planning on the first time being our wedding, or when I inevitably end up being the god father of Stanley’s rugrats and I have to go drown the kid in holy water or whatever,” Richie shrugs, and Eddie brings his fingers to his temples to rub at them harshly.

“Richie, I don’t even- what the fuck- I don’t even know where to _start_ with how… just _incorrect_ everything you just said is.”

“No, see, I get to be his god father and then I’m the one who cuts off his foreskin at his bar mitzvah.”

“Are you- are you serious or joking? I can’t tell and I’m, like, three seconds away from actually losing my shit.”

“I’m joking, Eds, Jesus, how stupid do you think I am?” Richie laughs, and it takes Eddie a moment to wipe away the furrow in his brow. “I went to Stanley’s bar mitzvah and let me tell you, 14 year old Richie who was very much not well-versed in Jewish tradition was mighty disappointed that I didn’t get to see Stanley’s dick get cut off.”

“Also it’s a synagogue, not a church.”

“Same fucking thing,” Richie rolls his eyes, and Eddie wants to explain that _no, Richie, they very much are not,_ but Richie speaks again before he has the chance to. “Do you want me to come with you? I’m serious.”

“You’d really do that?”

Richie’s smile goes tender in a way that Eddie isn’t expecting, and his breath catches in his throat. “I told you, baby, I would do anything for you. I mean that. Throwing on a sweater vest and spending a handful of hours setting up plastic chairs at a church is tame compared to what I’m willing to do if you ask me to.”

“A sweater vest? Do you see that as a requirement for coming with me? Is that the only church-appropriate attire you can conjure up in your head?” Eddie asks through giggles, and Richie throws his hands up defensively.

“Well I don’t fucking know! I don’t know what people wear in a church!”

“Definitely not ripped jeans and hoodies with burn holes in them.”

“See, and there you just exhausted my entire wardrobe, so it’s looking like I’m borrowing a sweater vest from Wentworth and helping you schmooze with some church ladies on Friday.”

And Jesus fucking Christ Almighty in Heaven above, when Richie walks into the function room of the church on Friday afternoon, he really is in a fucking sweater vest. A navy one with a light blue dress shirt underneath it, and it looks like he also dug out his only pair of black pants without holes in them (his ‘job interview pants,’ as Richie liked to call them). He even brushed his fucking _hair,_ and it’s relatively neatly pushed back from his face, likely held in place with some of Went’s hair gel.

Eddie’s first thought is that he looks like a fucking dad. And his second thought is that he looks like a _hot_ dad, and Eddie freezes where he’s standing with a folding chair in his hands, unable to tear his eyes away as Richie saunters up to him with a gleaming grin stretched across his face and his hands in his pockets.

“Hey, hey, spaghetti man,” he greets casually, and Eddie tries to swallow away the dryness coating the inside of his mouth.

“Clothes,” is the only word he’s able to get out, and Richie looks down at himself in confusion before shrugging.

“It’s the only one Went had that wasn’t argyle, and I know I said I’d do anything for you, but that might be my limit.”

“I- I- no, it’s- it’s- you look really, really nice,” Eddie stammers softly, peering carefully around the room to see if anyone is watching their exchange as Richie leans in closer.

“Awe, shucks Eds, you’re gonna make a grown man blush.”

And now that Richie is so close, Eddie can see how the blues in his clothes are perfectly matched with the tones of blue swimming around in his eyes and _fuck, fuck_ this was a terrible idea.

“I wish I could kiss you,” he whispers, and Richie really does blush, and Eddie wants to fucking pounce on him already. They’ve both been so busy with family since being home, and they haven’t gone this long without messing around since they started school. Eddie didn’t think it was affecting him that much, but _Jesus Christ._

“Your mom wouldn’t approve, Eddie,” Richie teases with a wink, and Eddie blushes across his cheeks, carefully looking around the room at the other volunteers once more, like they’ll somehow know by watching this very friendly exchange that Eddie has sucked Richie’s cock more times than he’s prayed in the past month.

Well, Richie is right, because Sonia gets huffy as soon as she sees him, which is why Eddie didn’t tell her that Richie was coming. He was afraid he’d cave and tell Richie not to come if his mom pushed the issue enough, and Eddie really, really needs Richie’s moral support right now.

“Eddie-bear, we can’t stand around chatting, we’ve got work to do,” she scolds, gripping him around the bicep so tightly that he can feel her fingernails through his sweater.

“Sorry, ma, I was just- just trying to tell Richie what still needs to be done.”

“Well, I certainly didn’t expect to see _you_ here,” she says tightly, turning her nose up at Richie. Which really just makes her look stupid, since Richie is so much taller than she is, but whatever.

“It’s nice to see you too, Mrs. K! How’s life been treating you since Eddie’s been away at school?” Richie asks her amicably, but she scowls as if he had asked what color her underwear are.

“Just fine, thank you,” she replies stiffly, then leans in to address Eddie once more. “We need more chairs from the storage closet, would you mind getting them, Eddie-bear?”

“Sure thing! Richie, wanna help me? Let’s go,” Eddie agrees quickly, prying his mother’s grip from his arm before grabbing Richie by the wrist to drag him toward the storage closet out in the hallway. He hears his mother repeat his name as he walks out of the room but he ignores it, because he knows she’s just going to say something else mean or passive aggressive and he just. Doesn’t want to deal with it right now.

Once they’re inside of the storage closet, Eddie leans back against the door, letting out the exasperated breath that he’s been holding nearly all morning. Richie looks down at him in sympathy, rubbing a comforting hand over his shoulder.

“That rough already, huh?”

“You have no fucking idea. Ran into Myra as soon as I got here, which would be fine, but my fucking mom was right there and was all ‘You two should get together while Eddie is home for Christmas’ and I didn’t know what the fuck I was supposed to say! And every fucking person in here has asked me if I have a girlfriend yet. I swear to fucking god, all of them.”

Richie frowns down at him, and honestly, Eddie feels sort of bad for making him come here. This isn’t where Richie wants to be right now. It’s not where Eddie wants to fucking be right now.

“I’m so sorry, baby. Why don’t we just try to get through it and then we can go somewhere later? Ben and Bev got back this morning, I can see if everyone wants to meet up at my parents’ house for a movie night or something. We can order pizza and just chill. Or if you’d rather just do something alone, we can go for a drive. Venus is supposed to be super visible tonight, the sky is gonna be really clear so I can grab my telescope and we can go to Sand Beach and just camp out in my truck for the night,” Richie offers, and Eddie’s heart floats up into his head and he wants to fucking cry.

“Richie, I’m- I don’t deserve you,” Eddie tries to say lightheartedly, but his voice breaks and his eyes are stinging and fuck, he just wants to be in his fucking dorm room in New York right now getting wine drunk with his friends.

“Please don’t say things like that,” Richie says very seriously, and that’s how Eddie knows he’s really worried. And God, why. Why why why.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, baby; I just… I wish I could snap my fingers and make all of this go away for you. I wish I could fix everything and make this easier, but I can’t, and as much as that fucking tears me up inside, I know I can’t do much more right now than be here for you. So why don’t we put on a brave face, and go schmooze these church folk, and then we can literally just run away from all of this when we’re done, because we’re within our rights to do that when it’s the only real option we have.”

“I just wish there were other options,” Eddie whispers, leaning into Richie’s palm when he reaches to wipe Eddie’s tears away with his thumb.

“So do I, baby.”

Richie kisses him on his hair before pulling him into a tight hug, and the sensation of being squeezed so hard starts to help, for a reason that Eddie doesn’t quite understand. But it does, and he manages to dry his eyes so that they can grab the fucking chairs and exit the closet before people start to get suspicious about why they’ve been in there so long.

Eddie has a really hard time turning back on after that, but he doesn’t really have to, because Richie turns on enough for the both of them. Eddie never really understands how he does it, but Richie has this way of charming an entire room if he wants to and making it seem so effortless, molding his personality seamlessly to the crowd he’s inhabiting. And that’s exactly what he does.

He has a sort of reputation around town, and it’s not like the people at Eddie’s church don’t know that. The Toziers have been criticized for being a secular family by a lot of people in his parish, and Maggie in particular has caught backlash for having her students read books such as _Fahrenheit 451_ and _The Catcher in the Rye_ in the sophomore literature class that she teaches at Derry High.

But it’s suddenly like none of that matters, because he manages to charm the fucking pants off of everybody. Literally, almost, based on how Mrs. Duggal blushes when Richie rolls the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows to help her lift a particularly heavy box of canned black beans, all while telling her he’s happy to help, and she shouldn’t be lifting something so heavy in the heels she’s wearing.

Not that Eddie can blame her, because fucking Christ, seeing Richie put on like this is doing it for him. And knowing that he’s doing it for Eddie, even though they both know everyone in the room would want them both fucking dead if they knew the truth… it makes Eddie love him in a way that makes his heart hurt for the both of them.

He manages to more-or-less melt into the crowd, which is such a nice, nice feeling. And when he sees Richie being dragged by the hand over to where Eddie is standing by the Nelson’s 8 year old daughter with a giant smile on his face, it’s deceivingly easy to picture what a future might be like with him, if they were allowed to have one.

She looks so excited as she runs up to him that Eddie can’t help the smile that pulls across his cheeks as he watches her skip towards him with Richie in tow. She’s so much taller than she was the last time Eddie was home, and that pulls on his heart a little. His chest aches for a time when he spent his Friday nights babysitting her, coloring and watching _The Little Mermaid_ over and over and over, belting out the songs together until she’d fall asleep in his lap.

“Eddie! Eddie!”

“What’s up, Maddie?”

“Richie just told me a really, really funny joke!”

“No way, Richie’s jokes stink!” Eddie teases, wrinkling up his nose.

Richie clutches at his heart in mock offense, and Maddie starts jumping up and down, tugging on the bottom of Eddie’s sweater.

“No, I promise! I promise this one is funny!” she turns to Richie and grabs onto his hand, and he looks so _happy,_ and it hurts. “You have to tell Eddie the joke!”

“Why don’t you tell him, Mads? I think you’ll do a better job than I will,” Richie suggests, and she gets shy, hiding herself halfway behind his arm and shaking her head. “Come on, please?”

“Uh-Uh.”

“Well, that’s too bad, because I forgot what the joke was. I guess Eddie doesn’t get to hear it,” Richie sighs, and Maddie throws her hands up indignantly.

“You forgot _already?!”_

“I have a really bad memory. So I guess if you don’t want to tell him, then-”

“No, I can tell it!” she insists, and Eddie watches as she thinks hard about what she’s going to say next, and he gives her his full attention once she’s ready.

“Okay, so if- what do you call- wait, hold on,” she starts, and Richie gives her an encouraging pat on the back, and she takes a breath before starting again. “So if a seagull flies over a sea, then what flies over a bay?” she finally asks, and Eddie makes a show of pondering for a moment, tapping his finger on his chin in thought.

“No idea, what flies over a bay?”

“A bagel!” she shrieks, devolving into hysterical childish laughter that has him laughing, too. It comes up from the bottom of his belly and erupts out of his mouth, and Richie beams at him, and he isn’t sure why his heart hurts so badly.

“Okay, okay; yeah, that’s a pretty good one, I have to admit,” Eddie concedes through his giggling, and Maddie looks up at Richie with the brightest eyes, and he ruffles her hair as he smiles back down at her.

“Good job, Mads. He never laughs that hard when I tell jokes,” he whispers, holding out his hand for a high-five. She slaps her palm against his excitedly before turning back to Eddie, tugging on the bottom of his sweater once more.

“Do you know where my mommy is? I’m _so hungry_ but she said I can’t eat any of the food,” she pouts up at him, and Eddie smooths down her hair that Richie had mussed up with his ruffling.

“Not sure, why don’t we go find her?”

She nods excitedly, and turns back to Richie, waving at him with just as much enthusiasm. “Bye, Richie! Tell me more jokes next time!”

“I’ll try to remember all my best ones for you, kiddo,” he ensures with a wink, and she giggles up at him before clinging onto Eddie’s middle.

“Piggyback?” she asks hopefully when she pulls away from the hug, and Eddie immediately bends over, holding out his arms as stirrups.

“Hop on, cowgirl.”

Maddie giggles again joyously before climbing onto his back, and when he stands back up, Richie is looking at him so tenderly that his heart pauses in his chest.

“What?” he asks, and he feels sort of nervous, for some reason.

“Nothing,” he says softly, but his smile gets wider, and Eddie smiles too, and he thinks he understands what Richie is trying to say without saying it out loud.

“Alright, Miss Maddie, let’s go find your momma,” Eddie tells her softly, mostly because he has to step away from Richie before he starts crying, and he’s not even sure why he wants to in the first place.

They end up finding Maddie’s mom talking to his own mom as they letter some banners for the food drive, and he’s so caught up in feeling the closest thing to happiness that he’s felt all day that he doesn’t realize the nature of the conversation that they’re having until it’s too late, and he’s already dropped himself and Maddie into the middle of it, allowing her to climb off of his back and run right up to her mother as she’s speaking.

“And that crackpot mayor down in Boston is trying to give them the right to _adopt children,”_ she finishes her sentence as Maddie clings onto her leg, and Eddie’s mouth goes dry, and he wants to grab her and put her on his back and take her back to Richie so he can tell her more jokes about birds and the sea.

And he knows he should brace for it when his mother opens her own mouth to respond, he knows he should expect it, but he still finds himself flinching when she does. “Can you imagine how those kids would turn out? Raised by a couple of faggots?”

It makes it worse that Maddie doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t know to flinch, because she doesn’t know what that word means. She knows what it _means,_ but she knows in the same way that Eddie knew when he was her age and he didn’t flinch when his mother said it, either.

She just dramatically drapes herself across her mother’s middle and groans, forcing her attention down onto her daughter. “Mommy, I’m starving, we’ve been here forever!”

“We’re almost done, Madeline. Stop whining, you can wait.”

“No I _can’t!”_

“Madeline Anne, do you want a spanking?” Mrs. Nelson threatens in a low whisper, gripping Maddie around the bicep. Maddie’s face drops immediately, and Eddie wants to rip her mother’s hand off of her fucking arm.

“Hi, Eddie dear, sorry if she was being any trouble to you and your friend.”

“She’s- She’s never any trouble,” Eddie says, and he doesn’t mean for it to sound defensive, but he knows it does because of the confused expression that Mrs. Nelson gives him in return.

“Right, well… I’m going to go find her some saltines or something to quell her whining, we’ll see you later,” she says, and Maddie waves excitedly at him as her mother leads her away.

“Bye, Eddie!”

“Bye, Maddie,” Eddie manages to put on a smile for her, waving at her until her mother jerks her shoulder around to face forward, telling her to stop goofing around.

And then he’s left alone with his own mother, and looking at her is making him want to fucking scream.

“Are you nearly finished setting up the tables and chairs?” she asks conversationally, and Eddie nods stiffly, flattening his hands against his sides so that they won’t ball into fists.

“Almost.”

“You’d probably be finished by now if that Tozier boy spent less time socializing and more time being _helpful,”_ she replies snootily, and the elastic band of Eddie’s nerves is dangerously close to snapping altogether.

“Ma, you spent the first hour we were here gossiping,” Eddie criticizes, and she looks at him in shock, and he doesn’t even care if her feelings are hurt.

“Eddie, I was not _gossiping,_ I was _event planning._ This is a community effort,” she says, and Eddie wants to reply with _What part of the food drive were you planning when you were complaining to Monica Corcoran about the ‘negro family’ who moved in down the street?_

But he doesn’t.

“Well, Richie and I can just stay late and finish up on our own,” he settles for saying with a tight smile, and he doesn’t wait for a response before he beelines back over to Richie, where he’s now taken off his sweater vest and is sitting on the ground, trying to fix a wobbly table leg with a screwdriver.

He throws himself down onto the ground next to him and Richie looks up with a smile, and like second nature, his mouth opens right up and says “Hey, baby.”

And the look of panic that passes over his face after it comes out of his mouth makes Eddie’s heart finally, finally crack in two after aching all day, and he reaches out for Richie’s hand as the other man is frantically looking around to see if anyone heard.

Eddie gently takes the screwdriver from him, allowing his fingers to linger on Richie’s as he does it, and it physically hurts to swallow down the sob that wants to climb its way out of his throat, undoubtedly trying to bring a flood of tears with it that Eddie’s isn’t allowed to cry.

“Eddie, I’m so sorry, fuck,” Richie whispers, and Eddie just shakes his head, blinking away the stinging in his eyes as he starts working on the leg of the table himself.

“It’s okay. Don’t be sorry.”

“Are you okay, Eds?” Richie asks, and Eddie can hear the alarm in his voice, but he has no reassuring smile to offer.

“Tell you later,” he whispers, and Richie looks around again before briefly hooking his pinkie around Eddie’s and squeezing it firmly, then pulling away as if the touch had burned. Eddie felt it burn him, too.

They don’t end up finishing on time, which is fine, because Eddie wants to just be alone more than anything. He feels extremely relieved once everyone starts piling out of the room, and he knows he’s being slow in his movements to drape tablecloths onto the tables that are all set up, but he doesn’t have any energy left. He’s surprised he’s still standing.

He still politely says his goodbyes, and so does Richie, and eventually it’s just the two of them and his mother in the room. Eddie braces himself as she walks over to them, and when she opens her mouth to speak, Eddie grits his teeth at the sound of her voice.

“Still working, I see?”

“Sorry for being slow, Mrs. K. A bunch of the tables had wobbly legs, it took a while to fix them up,” Riche responds so that Eddie doesn’t have to, and she turns her nose up again, looking Richie up and down with disdain.

“Right. Well, it was kind of you to volunteer your time today.”

“It’s no problem; it’s for a great cause, right?”

“Right,” she sighs dismissively, clearly having had enough interaction with that dirty, faggy Tozier boy for a lifetime, it seems.

“We can finish up here, ma. You should head over to Monica’s,” Eddie tells her with as soft of a smile as he can force onto his face, and she looks at him skeptically.

“Are you sure, Eddie-bear?” she asks, and he knows that she’s saying she doesn’t trust them. Or doesn’t trust Richie, at least.

“Very sure. We shouldn’t be long.”

“Well, if you say so, Eddie.”

“I do say so. And I’ll probably be going out tonight, so I’ll give you a call if you’re still at Monica’s before I leave.”

“Well… well, okay,” she says hesitantly, and Eddie is two seconds away from snapping, and he needs her to just _go._ “Make sure you lock up before you leave. And don’t you lose those keys, Eddie. Father Walton will have your poor mother’s head.”

“I’ll keep them safe, ma.”

She doesn’t say goodbye to Richie before shuffling out of the room, and Eddie waits for the distinctive slam of the backdoor before letting out an exhausted sigh, and Richie immediately has a hand on his shoulder.

“Baby, talk to me,” Richie begs for the second time that day, and Eddie hugs him around the middle, pressing his face against Richie’s chest so hard that he can barely breathe.

“Eddie, please,” Richie whispers, and Eddie forces himself to pull away, blinking up at Richie through his tears.

“Just… just the hardest day I’ve had in a really long time.”

“Did something happen? You seemed- You seemed happy after talking to Maddie, and…”

Right. Maddie.

“That was until I took her over to her mother, who was having a lovely conversation with my mother about how gays shouldn’t be allowed to raise children and how a kid raised by ‘a couple of faggots’ would inevitably be a demon child or something, I guess,” Eddie sniffs, and Richie’s eyes widen.

“They said that?”

“Yep.”

“In front of Maddie?”

“You betcha.”

Richie is quiet for a moment before letting out a breath, and Eddie feels it in his soul.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Eddie doesn’t respond and turns back to the tables instead, sniffling away his tears as he unfolds another table cloth, angrily opening it before tugging it onto one of the tables, and he reaches for another one, only to have Richie gently grab his wrist. Eddie looks up at him and sees his least favorite Richie.

Not because this Richie is bad, but because this Richie hurts to look at, and he’s been on the verge of making an appearance all day. And here he is, looking down at Eddie with those sad blue eyes in defeat, because he’s realized that he really can’t solve all of Eddie’s problems.

And Eddie wants so badly to pretend that he can, just so that they can both feel better. But Richie knows better than that, and so does he, so he doesn’t try.

He does allow Richie to tug him into his chest and bury his face into Eddie’s hair, and Eddie is crying again, and he doesn’t want Richie to cry too, but it’s too late.

“I’m so, so sorry, baby,” he whispers against Eddie’s hair, and Eddie squeezes him so tight that his arms hurt, and he wants to go home to his stupid tiny dorm room where he can be in love.

“I’m sorry I made you come here.”

“I made that choice. I wanted to be here.”

“No you didn’t.’

“I want to be wherever you need me, Eddie. Forever.”

And, well, that brings about the sobbing, and Richie rubs his back and lets him cry, and that feels nice, at least. And eventually he doesn’t feel much like crying anymore, and Richie holds him by the shoulders, rubbing his thumbs against Eddie’s collarbones.

“Why don’t you go take some space? I’ll finish up in here and then we can go,” Richie offers gently, and Eddie wants to say no, and insist that he can help, but he knows they both know he doesn’t have the energy or the will.

So he just nods, and Richie presses a quick kiss to his lips before Eddie shuffles out into the hallway, and he finds his feet carrying him to the nave.

It’s weird being in here alone. He’s only ever been here by himself one other time, and it was after his Confirmation. He had shuffled back into the nave on his own after everyone had moved into the event room, and he knelt by the altar in the sanctuary, and he thanked God for giving him His grace. He had cried, thanking God over and over for his Confirmation, for his faith, for being his Father.

Right now he wants to scream. He wants to yell and scream at God for fucking doing this to him. And truthfully, he isn’t sure if he means for making him gay, or for putting him in a world where he isn’t allowed to be.

But he tries to swallow it down, and he tries to pray. He kneels before the altar table and blesses himself, and he rests his hands on his thighs and he hangs his head and he prays.

And he isn’t sure what he’s praying about, not really. It feels like a rambling mumble of words that quietly tumble out of his mouth, and he just says and says them, and he turns his brain off and lets them come out. Because that’s how he’s always prayed, and it always works. Or makes him feel better, at the very least.

Except he eventually hears his own voice raising, and he feels his fists clenching against his legs, and he tunes back into his own mouth to hear himself cursing and crying and _It’s not fair it’s not fucking fair why did you do this to me this isn’t fair it’s not fucking fair._

And then he’s standing, and he’s staring at the crucifix hanging over the sanctuary, and he’s screaming, he’s screaming into the empty room at a God who doesn’t fucking listen to him and never has, not once, not on the day that his father died or the day he was Confirmed or when he first started thinking about boys and not right now, not right fucking now when Eddie wants him to come down from whatever fucking throne he’s sitting on up there so Eddie can scream in his face and make him listen for once.

He doesn’t notice Richie enter the nave until he’s wrapping his arms around Eddie’s shoulders, then brushing a gentle hand over Eddie’s face and searching for answers with his frantic eyes that Eddie doesn’t have for him.

“Eddie, Eddie, baby, what’s going on?”

Eddie can’t answer because he’s still screaming, still screaming and crying and it fucking hurts.

“Eddie, please,” Richie begs, and Eddie holds his breath and forces himself to stop, but he can hear his screams echo in the sanctuary before they die in his ears, and listening to his own broken whimpering is almost worse.

“I can’t do this, Richie.”

“Can’t do what?”

“Believe in a God who would do this to me.”

“Eddie, I’m not- I’m not the person to ask about religion, I’m really not. I don’t know what to say to you about God and all of that but- but I know that you are… you are the greatest, strongest, bravest, most beautiful person I’ve ever met in my life. I know that there is not a single fucking thing I would change about you if I could, and if the same God that made you gay made the rest of you, I just- I can’t be mad at the guy, Eddie. You’re perfect, Eddie. You’re my everything.”

“Then why the fuck would he put me in a world like this? If that’s true, and I’m not the problem, then why the fuck am I here? Why are we here? Why did I have to spend all fucking day worrying about what people would think if I got within two feet of you when all I wanted to fucking do was hold your hand?”

Richie pauses, searching Eddie’s eyes once more like he’ll find the answer there. And who knows, maybe he does, because his eyes have a fire in them that reflects a portion of Eddie’s own anger when he speaks again.

“Who fucking knows, Eddie? A cruel joke? It’s not fair, you’re right. It’s not fucking fair, and it’s infuriating, and it’s fucking ridiculous and stupid and fucking _bullshit,_ it’s such fucking bullshit. And we aren’t the fucking ones who should have to take the high road, we’re not the fucking ones who should have to shut up about it and just take it and I fucking agree with you that it’s not fucking fair, Eddie, I do. But as fucking mad as I am, I have _still_ never been happier in my life than I am right now, because I have you. I have you, and I have my friends, and I have my entire life ahead of me, which is more than I can say I’ve ever felt before. And I know it’s hard to see this when you’re in Derry fucking Maine, but things are getting better, Eddie. They are. Because people like you _, brave_ people who know they live in a world that hates them are strong enough to be who they are anyway, and say _fuck this,_ and take a rigid, hostile world and force it to make space for them. And whether they do it by riding a fucking pride float down Main Street or just having the fucking courage to exist, they’re making that space. You’re making space. And I am so fucking proud of you, Eddie. I’m proud of _us._ ”

By the time he finishes, Richie is crying too, and Eddie is feeling such a confusing mix of anger and outrage and pride and fucking _love_ that it’s dizzying and he wants to say the right things but he doesn’t know where to get them from.

“I’m proud of us too, I’m proud too,” is what he ends up choking out through his tears, and Richie presses Eddie into his chest and all Eddie can hear is his heartbeat.

“I love you so much, Richie, I love you. I- I feel like love isn’t even- I don’t know, it’s fucking stupid, because I feel like love isn’t the right word but it’s the only one I have, and I- I’m just so _grateful,_ I’m so grateful for you and our friends and our life and I just want to fucking tell everyone how much I love you and how fucking happy you make me.”

“We will, baby, I promise we will. But we have to take care of us right now, and it’s not your fault that you can’t be out right now, Eddie. I don’t need anybody else’s validation but yours. I don’t need anyone else to know that you love me because _I_ know that you love me and that’s enough for me. And someday when we can be as fucking out as we want to be, I’m gonna tell everybody I know how much you mean to me.”

And it’s going to be okay. It is. It’s going to be fucking okay, because the only people Eddie has ever needed are his friends, anyway, and they all love him still. They all know and they all love them just the same and that’s enough for now. Richie fucking loves him, and that’s enough. And someday it won’t fucking have to be enough. Someday they won’t have to settle for enough.

And it’s painful, it’s so fucking painful and wretched. It fucking hurts, it hurts so fucking badly because a piece of Eddie might die here in this church that he never wants to let go of. A piece of him that he doesn’t fucking know how to live without. And he’s not sure he ever will, and that’s fucking scary, and that’s fucking infuriating. And he doesn’t want to be mad still but he is, he’s so fucking angry at his mother and his parish and Nancy Nelson for making it so that Maddie would be afraid of him if she knew the truth about him. He’s mad that he’s a Catholic and that he’s gay that he wants to be, and that he wants to find a fucking place where he can be both.

Mostly he’s still mad. And he thinks he’s allowed to be.

Kissing Richie spontaneously is hard, because Richie is tall. So most of the time it’s more that Eddie hooks his arms around Richie’s neck and climbs halfway up his body, and somewhere in his scrambling movements, Richie realizes what he’s doing and leans down so that Eddie can mash their mouths together.

Which is what he’s doing right now, and Richie leans down to grab him around the waist and lift him up to make it easier on them both. And Eddie brings his legs up to wrap them around Richie’s waist, and Richie brings his hands up to hold Eddie by the ass to support his weight.

And this is a dangerous game to play in a church, definitely. Especially his childhood church, knowing that the doors are still unlocked and really, anyone could come back at any moment because they forgot their keys or wallet or something.

And really, he’s not sure if Richie just… doesn’t understand what the altar table is, or what it’s for, or whatever, but an electric jolt of panic zips through him when Richie carries him over to it and _sits him down on top of it._

For fuck’s fucking sake.

But he doesn’t say anything, because… because. Because they’re having a nice moment, and Richie is still kissing him, and now his hands are free, so he’s holding Eddie by the hair and licking into his mouth. And that’s so, so good. It’s been too long since they’ve gotten to even kiss each other like this, and Eddie is already getting lost, and he brings his hands down from Richie’s shoulders to grip his forearms, and then he remembers the fucking dress shirt he’s wearing that’s still got the sleeves rolled up.

And honestly, he somehow looks even _more_ like a hot dad without the sweater vest on, and Eddie’s not quite sure why that’s really just… doing something for him, but it is. And he brings his hands up to wrap his fingers in Richie’s hair, and he can feel the neat, careful way Richie had combed it coming apart under his fingers, and he pulls harder, and Richie groans against his lips at the sensation.

Eddie pulls away from the kiss to trail his lips across Richie’s jaw, eventually bringing his mouth to Richie’s ear to gently bite on the lobe.

“You look so hot in this outfit,” he whispers, and Richie chuckles, and the sound sends a shiver through Eddie’s body that he should definitely ignore.

“Yeah? Want me to make the permanent switch to conservative church attire?”

“Fuck no. Just saying you clean up nice.”

“So you like me better when I’m a mess?”

“To an extent. Get rid of that fucking t shirt with the giant hole in the armpit and we’ll talk.”

“It keeps me breezy!”

“On one fucking side! How did you even manage to do that in the first place? Do you sweat fucking battery acid only out of your left armpit?”

“Well, I got my arm stuck in the vending machine at-”

“I- Never mind, I don’t want to know, just kiss me.”

Richie laughs softly before cupping Eddie’s chin to pull him back into a kiss, and it’s sweet, and it’s gentle, and it’s really not at all what Eddie wants right now.

So he brings his hands back up to tug on Richie’s hair, and he knows he probably shouldn’t, because Richie gets worked up very, very easily whenever Eddie pulls his hair. And that would be a bad idea. Because they’re in his church.

But he keeps doing it, and Richie drops his hands down to Eddie’s waist, gripping him so tightly on the hips that he gasps and breaks their kiss, and Richie sighs.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m trying not to get carried away, I just- I’ve missed you, so much,” Richie whispers, and well, maybe Eddie is trying to get carried away. Just a little bit. So he tugs Richie’s lips back against his by his hair, and Richie moans into his mouth, and Eddie really can’t help scooting his ass forward on the altar table to wrap his legs more tightly around Richie’s waist, using it as leverage to pull their hips together.

Richie makes a noise in the back of his throat that maybe sounds like a warning, but Eddie promptly ignores it and brings a hand down from Richie’s hair to his crotch, feeling desperately for evidence that maybe Richie is feeling the same way he’s feeling. And he finds it, immediately, because it’s sort of impossible to miss the thick outline of his cock in his pants.

Eddie half-moans, half-sighs in relief before squeezing it in his hand, and Richie lets out another moan that has Eddie’s head lifting outside of his body already. But then Richie pulls away, and he grabs Eddie firmly by the hair on the back of his head, pulling his head back to force his eyes up so fast that Eddie gasps.

And he’s got that dark look in his eyes that Eddie feels like he both shrinks and blossoms under, and Richie is the only person who can or will ever make him feel that way. Richie is the only person who has ever been able to build him up so high and take him down when he needs it, the only person Eddie will ever trust with the responsibility of breaking him down when he needs to be broken.

“Don’t be a tease, baby,” Richie tells him firmly, and Eddie’s skin goes hot at the command, and he’s really, really not being a tease.

“I’m- I’m not, I’m not.”

“Don’t be a brat, either,” Richie replies just as firmly, and well, that’s not what Eddie meant, but he doesn’t know how to ask for it. He doesn’t know how to tell Richie he feels like he'll die if Richie doesn’t glue him back together in this place where he’s fallen apart.

And honestly, he's surprised Richie hasn't picked up on it yet, like this is something so depraved and wrong that even Richie wouldn't think to do it. The heat in Eddie's belly grows hotter and he presses his lips to Richie’s neck, mumbling the only thing he thinks might get his message across while allowing him to maintain some semblance of his dignity.

"Please, Daddy?"

Richie’s grip around his waist tightens immediately and Eddie gasps, squirming against him as he waits for Richie to respond, and maybe tell him no, that this is too far, that he couldn't possibly do something like this, not here.

"Do you need your Daddy to take care of you, kitten?"

Eddie’s muscles immediately feel like jelly under his skin and he nods frantically, whimpering against the skin of Richie’s throat as he shuffles closer to him, so close that the heat between their bodies is already making him sweat underneath his clothes.

He nearly wants to scream when Richie pulls fully away from him, and he is unable to hold in his whine as he reaches out, stopping Richie at arm’s length before he has the chance to step away altogether.

And he looks very, very serious, and Eddie worries that maybe Richie doesn’t want to do this, which would be okay, of course. But Eddie wants to, so, so badly.

Richie holds him by the shoulder, searching Eddie’s eyes thoughtfully as he pets a hand down the side of his head to cup Eddie’s cheek in his palm.

“Are you sure, baby? You’re one-hundred percent sure?”

Eddie nods, and Richie shakes his head gently.

“You have to tell me baby. Say ‘yes, I’m sure.’”

“Yes, Daddy, I’m sure,” Eddie tells him softly, and Richie takes a shaky breath before he drops his hand down to Eddie’s throat, squeezing just hard enough for Eddie’s heart to kick up where it’s beating in his ears.

“Take your clothes off, kitten.”

Eddie rips his sweater and undershirt over his head before lifting his legs up to take his shoes off and kick them away, and as he’s gracelessly tugging his pants and underwear down his legs, Richie steps forward again to do it for him. He rips them down from Eddie’s knees before tossing them away and crowding up into Eddie’s space, leaving him bare aside from the silver cross dangling between his collarbones.

He runs his hands down Eddie’s bare sides and Eddie shudders at his touch, looking up to watch Richie’s face as he pets over Eddie’s skin almost reverently, and he looks so enamored, and Eddie loves this. Loves how his insecurities melt away when Richie looks at him like something to be worshiped, and he wants to let himself be as bare as he can be for Richie. Wants to let Richie see inside of him, so that he can know him completely. He thinks they’re getting there.

“You’re so beautiful, baby. Do you know how pretty you are?” Richie asks him softly, dragging his lips across Eddie’s jaw to his ear, and Eddie shivers at the sensation of Richie’s warm breath puffing against his neck.

Richie brings his hand back up to Eddie’s throat and he tilts his head back, baring himself entirely, giving himself away to the only person who makes him feel like he isn’t broken, the only person that makes him feel like sometimes he wants to be.

“Do you know how hard it is to control myself around you, kitten?” Richie asks, tightening his fingers around Eddie’s throat until Eddie can feel that buzzy, lightheaded feeling explode between his ears, and he leans into it, panting breaths out from between his lips.

“Answer me,” Richie demands in a whisper, and Eddie’s belly rolls around with heat, and he whimpers in his throat at the intensity in Richie’s eyes that he only gets in these moments, and Eddie is the only one who gets to see it, he’s the only one who gets to have Richie like this.

And normally when Richie will ask him things like this, Eddie will shake his head shyly, or let out a small ‘No, Daddy,’ and Richie will tell him. He’ll pet over Eddie’s cock and push his fingers between Eddie’s legs and tell him _You’re the prettiest boy in the world, kitten. I want to make you cry for me all the time; you’re so pretty when you cry, baby._

But this time Eddie looks into Richie’s eyes and nods his head as best he can in Richie’s grip, gasping when Richie tightens it further, and Eddie’s eyes flutter closed at the sensation.

“You make me feel so pretty, Daddy; please, take me apart,” Eddie whispers through the tightness around his throat, and Richie lets out a shuddering breath before sliding his hand around to the back of Eddie’s neck, holding him slack in his grasp as he licks into Eddie’s mouth so far that Eddie can nearly feel him in the back of his throat.

When Richie pulls away, he pushes Eddie to lie down at the same time, and Eddie lets out a small ‘oof’ when his back hits the cold, hard wood of the altar below him, and he almost has the mind to feel sickened by how excited that makes him feel.

He’s spent so much of his life in this room feeling bare in his faith, feeling nearly flayed by it sometimes. And it wasn’t so obvious, when he was younger. He would kneel and stand and sing and pray and he’d mean it, he meant it so deeply that something inside of him ached to be closer to the Lord. It ached so deeply sometimes that he would cry as he prayed, and he’d beg for God to love him harder.

It started getting harder to mean it entirely when he first started to think about boys, and why he didn’t think about girls, and how sometimes he would day dream and he’d think about kissing Richie.

And he remembers the very first time when he was 13 years old, sitting in this very room as Father Walton’s voice floated in and out of his ears, and he wanted so badly to be outside with his friends. It was summertime, and they were going to the quarry later to swim. Eddie thought about Richie, and how Richie would pick him up and put him onto his shoulders in the water, and how Richie would carry Eddie on his back, and he thought about how easy it might be to pull Richie close to him in the water and press their lips together.

And he remembers panicking, and hating himself, and worrying in a dark, unreasonable part of his mind that God would make him disappear if he ever thought about it again. He remembers worrying that his mother somehow knew what he was thinking as he frantically glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, only to see her facing forward and listening to Father Walton’s sermon, and she tore her eyes away for only a moment to notice Eddie’s inattention and grab him on the thigh, digging her nails in so hard that Eddie could feel it through his pants.

He’s prepared this altar as an altar boy; he’s lit the candles and set the cloth and carried the burse, he’s filled the aspersory and knelt before the Father at the call of the Consecration chimes to receive the sacrament. He’s assisted in preparing the Eucharist on this very same altar that’s now so cold against his bare skin.

“Are you still with me, baby?” Richie’s voice rings through his head like a bell and Eddie comes back to himself, and Richie is leaning over him, looking down into his eyes with the beginnings of concern creeping around the edges of his face.

“Yes, I’m sorry, I got lost,” Eddie explains, and Richie knows what that means, so he nods his head and gives Eddie a kiss on the cheek.

“You’re safe, right baby?”

“Yes.”

“I love you, Eddie.”

“I love you more.”

Richie’s expression goes soft for a moment before he presses another kiss to Eddie’s lips, pulling Eddie’s legs up to rest his feet on the altar and bend his knees toward the sky. But Eddie doesn’t want Richie to be soft with him, so he brings his hand up to Richie’s hair, tugging on in so hard that he worries for a moment that he might actually hurt him, but all it does is punch a groan out of him that has Eddie dizzy all over again.

“Behave,” Richie warns when he pulls away, and he’s got that darkness back in his eyes that makes Eddie’s belly fill with fluttering heat, and he’s already squirming underneath him.

“Then fucking do something already,” Eddie snaps at him, and the cloud over his eyes gets darker, and he’s gripping Eddie’s thighs so hard that Eddie hopes he’ll have bruises from his fingers, so he can press his own fingers into them in the moments he has to sneak away and touch himself for the rest of the time they’ll be home.

“That’s not behaving, is it, kitty?”

“No, Daddy.”

“So you should probably shut your bratty little mouth if you want Daddy to give you what you want, shouldn’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy; I’m sorry.”

Richie gives him a hard smack on the thigh but ultimately accepts Eddie’s apology, and he smooths over the red mark that he’s left with his fingers before trailing them down to Eddie’s cock, which is lying hard against his belly, rising and falling with his breaths.

“You have such a pretty cock, baby. Prettiest cock for the prettiest boy,” he praises softly, running his fingers feather-light down the length of it, leaving Eddie panting underneath him, desperate for Richie to just touch him with a firm hand.

“It’s too bad you’re an impatient little whore who couldn’t keep his fucking mouth shut, because I was going to let you come in my mouth.”

Eddie whines in the back of his throat, pushing his hips up to press into Richie’s hand, only to have him pull away and flick Eddie hard on the hip.

“Daddy, please, please; I’ll be good, please let me-”

“No, and don’t ask me again.”

“But-”

“You’re really testing my patience today, aren’t you, kitten?”

“I just- I just want-”

“I don’t fucking care what you want, and I didn’t ask. I told you to shut the fuck up, didn’t I?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy.”

“If you even touch your cock without my say so, you don’t get to come at all, okay kitten? And if you do, we’re gonna stop, and I’m just going to fuck that pretty throat of yours, and you’ll be fucking lucky if I give you the privilege of swallowing my cum. Sound good, baby?”

A shiver rips through Eddie’s body and he nods frantically, balling his hands into fists at his sides to resist the temptation.

“Yes, Daddy; I’ll be good.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it, sweetheart,” Richie tells him, then reaches his hands down to grab Eddie’s thighs in his hands, dragging him closer to the edge of the table before pressing his knees up toward his chest, leaving Eddie on display.

He takes a moment to caress Eddie’s ass with his hands before bringing his fingers down to brush gently between Eddie’s legs, barely pressing against his hole before pulling them away altogether.

“I’m not sure you deserve it, baby.”

“Please, please; I’m sorry for being bad, Daddy,” Eddie begs brokenly, already feeling like he wants to cry before Richie has even really touched him at all.

“I know you want to be good for me, baby. It’s just hard for you sometimes, isn’t it?”

“Y-Yes.”

“I know it’s tough being such a little cockwhore, baby. It must be so hard for you,” Richie teases, and Eddie lets out a sob, trying to squirm around only to be held more firmly in place by Richie’s hand that’s holding him down by the back of his thigh.

“Daddy, _please?”_

“It must be hard being so fucking desperate to have a cock in you that you’d beg me for it in a fucking church,” Richie bites, then flicks his eyes up to Eddie’s, and Eddie knows he’s making sure that it’s okay for him to talk like that.

And luckily Eddie is sure that it’s obvious that he’s okay with it, based on the cry that he lets out, and the way his cock jumps against his stomach.

“I just wanted you so bad all day,” Eddie cries, and Richie uses his hands to spread Eddie wider before spitting directly onto his hole.

Eddie jolts at the sensation and feels himself go hot with embarrassment as Richie uses his fingers to spread his saliva all across Eddie’s hole, gently rubbing over it with two of his fingers.

“I wanted you too, baby. I thought about if I’d be able to get away with having you suck my cock in that little closet, but there were just too many people around. Someone could have seen us,” Richie tells him before spitting again and pressing his fingers into Eddie, tearing a choked moan from his throat as he feels his hole flutter before relaxing and allowing Richie to push his fingers all the way inside.

“I would have, I would have done it if you asked, Daddy,” Eddie admits, and Richie lets out a chuckle, shallowly thrusting his fingers as he looks down at Eddie with an amused expression on his face that makes Eddie’s blushing worse.

“I know you would have, baby, because you like that, don’t you? You like the idea of getting caught. You want somebody to see you acting like a little whore,” Richie tells him, pressing his fingers up with practiced ease to push into Eddie’s prostate, and Eddie groans, dropping his head back against the wood of the altar with a thud.

“Oh, Daddy, feels good, feels-”

“Answer my fucking question, kitten,” Richie orders, hooking his fingers up so harshly that Eddie lets out a desperate yelp. “You get off on it when you know we could get caught, don’t you?”

“N-No!” Eddie insists, and Richie brings his free hand down onto Eddie’s ass in a harsh spank, ripping another yelp from Eddie’s throat.

“Misbehaving _and_ lying? What happened to my good little kitty, baby? My kitten wouldn’t lie to his Daddy.”

Eddie tries to respond, but coherent thought leaves him when Richie pulls his fingers out to spit on Eddie again before pushing in a third finger, and he’s fucking embarrassed by how much he likes it. It’s not like Richie doesn’t ever use his spit, but never like this. And obviously not ever in his childhood church, while Eddie is lying naked on an altar.

“I wonder what you’d tell them, if someone walked in? How would you explain away all of this, baby?”

“I-I don’t know, I don’t know,” Eddie admits desperately, and the thrill that zips through him at the idea of it has him feeling ashamed. If someone came in and saw them like this, he’d never be able to show his face in town again. His mother would disown him, or worse. He’d have to leave Derry behind altogether.

He lets out a moan so loud that it echoes in the sanctuary, and maybe that’s what makes Richie decide that he’s had enough, because he rips his fingers from Eddie’s hole to frantically undo his pants. Eddie watches as he shoves his pants down onto his thighs and pulls his cock out, and part of Eddie wants to ask Richie if he can suck his cock first as he watches Richie stroke himself, letting out a soft little moan that gives Eddie goosebumps all over his body.

But he doesn’t ask, because what they’re doing is already so dumb and stupid and fucking risky and _depraved,_ and they really shouldn’t be doing this in the first fucking place. God, he’s going to go to hell, isn’t he?

But apparently he’s going to hell anyway for being gay, so he might as well go all the fucking way with it.

Richie gets Eddie’s hole so wet with spit that it’s dripping down his ass cheek, and Richie pushes it in with his fingers before stroking his cock a few more times, rubbing his precum around the tip with his thumb. He presses the head of his cock to Eddie’s hole and Eddie moans already, shifting his hips down in anticipation.

“You have to tell me if it hurts, baby,” Richie tells him seriously, and as impatient as he is, Eddie does find it endearing that Richie is worried. Because they’ve never had sex without using lube before, and it probably is going to hurt, at least a little. But they’d have no reason to carry lube with them to a church, or so Eddie thought.

“I will,” Eddie assures, and all of his breath leaves him as soon as Richie starts to push into him, pressing Eddie’s knees against his chest with his hands on Eddie’s thighs.

And it sort of burns, and it doesn’t go in as smoothly as it does with lube, but Eddie sort of likes that. He likes that it hurts a little bit, he likes that he’s hyper-aware of every inch of Richie’s cock as he pushes into him and stretches him out and takes the thoughts right out of his head.

“Oh, kitten, you’re so tight,” Richie groans, and Eddie whimpers in his throat, having to physically stop himself from touching his cock for the first time since they began.

Richie pauses once his hips are flush to Eddie’s body, and he rubs his thumbs into Eddie’s skin, watching his face carefully, for discomfort, Eddie assumes.

“Good?”

“So good, please, just fuck me, just-”

Eddie cuts himself off with a warbling moan as Richie does just that, pulling his hips back and pressing forward again, and again, and again, and Eddie has to stop himself from scratching his fingernails into the wood beneath his hands.

“Oh, Daddy, _Daddy,”_ Eddie cries, and it feels slurred and incoherent in his mouth, but Richie must understand him still, based on the chuckle that he gives in return.

“Did you miss me, kitty? Missed having my cock inside of you, baby?”

“Yes, so bad, this is all I wanted,” Eddie admits through something that sounds more like a sob than a moan, and he nearly screams when Richie slams his hips forward, pressing so deep into Eddie’s body that he can feel it everywhere, filling up every empty place inside of him until all of his hollow spaces are filled with Richie.

“You’re being so loud, baby. Someone might come over here to see what all the noise is about,” Richie teases, and he’s laughing as Eddie covers his face in embarrassment, and he only starts fucking into him harder, smiling gleefully as Eddie fails to keep his voice down.

“Who knew you were such a dirty little boy? I’m just going to fuck you wherever I want, now that I know you get off on it.”

“No, No, I-”

“Stop lying to me, kitten. I saw your face when that guy looked over at you while I was fingering you in my truck. I know the fact that someone could walk in here right now excites you,” Richie insists in a low voice, and Eddie can’t really deny it when his cock starts leaking precum against his belly at Richie’s words.

“I wonder what you’d tell them if one of your church folk came back and saw you like this. Would you pretend that you were just a good little Catholic boy until I came along? Would you tell them I held you down and made you take off all your clothes?” Richie asks in a low whisper, and Eddie’s breath catches in his throat, and he reaches for his cock before remembering and slamming his fist back down onto the table.

Richie drags him closer and bends Eddie further in half, pulling out to spit on his cock before shoving back in, and Eddie wants to come so fucking badly that he starts whining in the back of his throat as Richie starts thrusting into him so hard that Eddie’s body is jerking with each movement.

“Or would you tell them the truth? Would you tell them how bad you’ve wanted me your whole life? That you love being my little cum dump? Would you tell them how you beg for my cock like you’re going to fucking die without it? Would you tell all your little church folk how you nearly made me crash my fucking truck on our way up here because you couldn’t keep your fucking mouth off of my cock?”

Eddie is so far gone at this point that he can’t control the sounds coming out of him or the volume at which he’s making them, and Richie shifts the angle of his hips down, and honestly, _honestly_ Eddie might die if he doesn’t come right this fucking minute.

“Daddy, please, can I-”

“I asked you a fucking question, kitten,” Richie growls, and he’s staring at Eddie with this look he gets sometimes that makes something in Eddie snap in half, and he finally starts crying, letting his tears roll down from the corners of his eyes as Richie pounds into him so hard that he can hear the echoes of their flesh slapping together as it resonates in the sanctuary.

“I’d tell them- tell them the truth!”

“What truth is that, baby?”

“That I- That I-” Eddie pauses to gasp in a shaky breath, gripping the corner of the altar so hard that he worries he might press indents into the wood. “That I’m your whore; that I begged you to fuck me in a church because I’m your whore,” Eddie eventually sobs out brokenly, and Richie curses harshly above him, bringing his own hand down between Eddie’s legs to start stroking his cock.

And there’s only really a start, because Eddie comes all over his stomach almost as soon as Richie touches him, and Richie groans low in his throat before hammering his hips into Eddie’s so hard that the legs of the altar start to shake under the force of it.

“Oh, kitten, I’m gonna come in you, I’m gonna fucking come inside of you,” Richie growls lowly, and Eddie starts rocking his hips back with Richie’s rhythm the best he can, using his grip on the table as leverage.

“Please, Daddy. Want to be yours, please, Richie; I love you so much,” Eddie finds himself rambling, and Richie cusses out a quiet _fuck_ before he’s coming with a groan, pressed so tightly against Eddie’s body that he can feel the zipper from Richie’s pants biting into his skin.

Richie gently rolls his hips a few times before letting out a soft sigh, carefully pulling out of Eddie’s body to tuck himself back into his pants. Eddie allows his legs to dangle over the side of the altar because he can’t really move them right now, honestly, he’s too fucking tired.

“I’m gonna go grab something to clean up with,” Richie tells him as he brushes Eddie’s hair off of his sweaty forehead, and Eddie just nods, because speaking is just too much effort right now.

Richie comes back a few minutes later with a roll of paper towels, and Eddie wants to be helpful, but he more or less just lies there while Richie wipes both of their cum off of his skin.

And Richie helps him pull his clothes back on once he’s done, and Eddie wants nothing fucking more right now than to take a nap, but he manages to stand himself up on wobbly legs so Richie can lead him over to one of the pews to sit down.

“I have to say, I thought road head was the riskiest idea you’ve had to date, but I think this one sort of takes the cake,” Richie jokes gently, and Eddie rolls his eyes before leaning onto his shoulder.

“I’m full of surprises.”

“Like, out of the two of us, can’t say I ever thought _you_ would be the one who’d be like ‘hey, let’s fuck in a church,’” Richie says, and Eddie knows that’s his way of gently prodding to see if Eddie is okay, because this is about as unlike him as he’s ever been.

“I just… I don’t know. I think I just sort of realized that like… I fucking hate church,” Eddie says bluntly, and Richie snorts out a laugh that shockingly has Eddie giggling too.

“I do, like, I hate it. I really hate it. And I think it’s because church is… church is where all this stupid shit comes from, you know? Like a bunch of dudes wrote the Bible, a bunch of dudes created the Catholic church… it’s all- it’s all _people._ And I think- I think I don’t believe in the church, but I believe in God. I want to believe in a God that doesn’t hate me, even if people want to think he does,” Eddie explains softly, and truthfully, he’s not sure when he realized this himself. Maybe sometime between deciding to have sex in the sanctuary and when he was looking into Richie’s eyes and thinking that he would happily give up entire parts of himself to be with the man staring back at him.

Richie wraps his arm around Eddie’s shoulder to pull him into a hug, kissing the hair at the top of his head before leaning down to press a kiss to his lips.

“That’s such an incredibly mature outlook to have,” he says simply, and Eddie wants to roll his eyes and be dismissive, but you know what? It is fucking mature of him.

“I’m just tired of feeling like I can’t have both. Like I can’t have you and God. I want both. And this is how I’m gonna have both. And maybe in the future, if LGBT friendly churches like _actually_ become a thing, maybe I’ll reconsider. But for now, I just… I’m just happy with this.”

Eddie turns his head to look up at Richie, and he looks so happy and so _proud,_ and Eddie’s entire chest fills with that overwhelming affection he feels sometimes, to the point where it sort of scares him.

But it doesn’t feel scary, right now. It feels good. It feels like he could do this for the rest of his life. He wants to do this for the rest of his life.

“I’m so happy for you, baby. I know today was shitty, but… you know, at least you were able to figure this out. And honestly, knowing you had some sort of grand, existential realization with my dick inside of you is really just doing it for my ego right now,” Richie jokes, and Eddie rolls his eyes, elbowing him softly in the ribs.

“I think- Honestly, I think it started when you showed up here. Knowing you’d do something like that for me. Knowing you love me enough to put yourself in a situation like this just to make me feel better… it made me realize that we aren’t doing anything wrong by being together. I’ve told myself that a lot, but today was the first day I really believed it,” Eddie admits softly, and Richie squeezes him around the middle, and Eddie just wants _this._ He wants this, he wants this for the rest of his life.

And maybe now he can convince himself that it’s possible. That they actually might be able to have it.

They will. Whether it’s next year or 20 years from now, like Richie said. They’ll have it.

“Richie… um. Can I ask you something?”

“Anything, baby.”

“Will you marry me?” Eddie asks him, and he thought it would be a lot scarier to say than it is, but it doesn’t feel that scary. Maybe because Richie says he wants to get married all the time. But this is the first time Eddie really thinks they might be able to. Really, really believes it.

Richie is quiet for a moment, and Eddie gets nervous and looks up into his eyes, and Richie is frozen still, staring down at him with a wide-eyed expression of shock. And Eddie thinks that maybe he shouldn’t have asked, and he gets nervous.

“I mean, no pressure, I know we’re still young and stuff and it’s not like-”

“Eddie, of course I’ll fucking marry you,” Richie tells him softly, and he sounds like he’s going to cry again, and Eddie’s heart is beating so fast that it’s making him lightheaded.

“I don’t- I mean, I don’t have a ring or anything, but… but I want to marry you. I want to get married,” Eddie says, and that’s what causes a tear to finally slip down Richie’s cheek, and Eddie reaches up to wipe it away with his fingers.

“I don’t need a ring, I don’t need fucking anything ever again in my life but you, Eddie. Oh my god,” Richie says in disbelief, and Eddie sits up properly to pull him into a sweet kiss, and Richie holds him like something precious, and Eddie feels his eyes stinging, too.

“I want to get rings. I want to have something I can wear every day and look at and remind myself that we have each other forever,” Eddie tells him once he pulls away, and Richie presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, letting out a huff of a laugh.

“Do you try to make me cry on purpose?”

“No! No, of course not, I just- I just love you, so much, Richie. And I want you to know how serious I am about this.”

“I already knew that, baby. I never doubted that,” Richie assures him, and Eddie reaches for his hand to wrap their fingers together.

They sit like that for a comfortable moment, just holding hands and existing together in the nave of the church, and Eddie knows he’ll never be surer about anything in his life than he is about this.

And when they eventually make their way out of the church, it’s already dark outside. And when Richie asks him if he still wants to go do something fun, Eddie decides that he doesn’t want to do movie night, but not because he doesn’t want to be around other people. It’s more so that he just wants to exist in this moment with Richie, where they can have each other so wholly, and Eddie wants to linger in the intimacy of that realization just a bit longer.

So they do end up going to Richie’s house to grab blankets and a sleeping bag and food and his telescope, and they do pile into his truck. They do travel out to Acadia to look up at the stars.

And it’s cold, and it’s sort of windy, and they definitely didn’t bring enough food, but Eddie has never really wanted to be anywhere more than he wants to be here right now, watching Richie adjust his telescope and light up when he finds the star or the planet he’s looking for before bringing Eddie over to look, too.

And Eddie tries his best to see the constellations that Richie traces with his fingers once they’re lying on their backs in the bed of his truck and looking up at the sky, listening to the waves crash to the shore of the beach.

But really he just listens to Richie go on and on, and he could listen to it forever. He can listen to it forever.

And when Richie turns to him with that bright, excited look in his eyes, it brings Eddie back to when they were kids and they’d lie in the grass in the Toziers backyard, looking up at the same sky. Richie would inch his hand over to Eddie’s and lace their fingers together so slowly, as if he were afraid if he did it too quickly, Eddie might shatter in his hands.

“Y’know, Eds, I never really got all the God stuff. I mean, I understand it and everything, but I never really felt like that same sense of, like, amazement and enlightenment that you always talked about. Honestly the only things that have ever made me feel like that are the stars.”

“That makes sense, I think. The stars are revered as one of God’s greatest creations, so they sort of go hand-in-hand.”

A comfortable quiet blankets them, and Eddie wonders how many more times they’ll get to do this. How many more times they’ll get to look at these same stars, and huddle together in the cold, and talk about the universe in a way that doesn’t make it seem so scary. They can do it as many times as they want, for the rest of their lives. They’ll pile their kids and their dog in the car and take them too someday, and Eddie will listen to Richie explain to their children where Leo Minor and Hydra and Crater are in the sky above.

And Eddie can’t stop staring at Richie as he looks up at the sky. He reaches out his hand, and he squeezes Richie’s fingers tightly in his own, and he thinks about what kind of metal he wants their engagement rings to be.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this hell ride!!! Let me know what you think. I really loved writing these two stories and i sort of went off in this part but i wanted to really dig into Eddie's religious trauma and i didn't want to shoehorn it in
> 
> thanks lovelies :)


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